The inevitable emotional emergency

Back in January, I applied for a job that I was eventually offered in May. This means that for the past six months, I have lived with the possibility (and now plan) of leaving Colorado – and even after making the decision, it’s felt like a whim. Oh sure, I’m moving across the country, I’ve thought. Everything will come together. I’ve had the poise of Kate Middleton, if not bigger thighs, and moved through my days with a serenity that, as it turns out, I am not qualified for.

I’ve been sailing off into the sunset, only to wake up this morning and panic that THE EARTH IS NOT ROUND I WILL FALL OFF THE EDGE.

I am still three weeks away from starting my new job, but I will only sleep at my house for four more nights. On Friday, I’m picking up a moving truck and loading all of my worldly possessions into it, then driving to Minneapolis alone. I’ve hired men to help me unload my stuff into a storage unit, where it will stay for over a month while I fly back to Colorado, go to a wedding, celebrate my mom’s birthday in the mountains, leave my dog with my dad, drive all the way back to Minnesota, temporarily move in with friends, start my new job, and eventually, hopefully, close on a new house – which will result in a reunion with my dog and a second moving of all of my stuff at the end of July.

In the meantime, I am hemorrhaging money, picking at a rotisserie chicken carcass for breakfast, lunch, and dinner in an empty kitchen, and wishing for everything to be different. Easier. Safe.

But like Mary Engelbreight reminds us:

(I promise never to do that to you again.)

In all seriousness, risk is risky. Adventure and discomfort go hand-in-hand. But aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to know what might happen if you just step out into the unknown? For all of the mystery, I would rather walk forward into the unmapped and uncharted than know exactly what tomorrow will bring. (Because after all, it’s probably rotisserie chicken off the carcass.)

When it comes down to it, come August, I’m going to be unpacking my clothes into a closet with Foxy at my feet, and readying a guest room for you to come visit. And if you need further persuasion as to why Minneapolis is worth a look-see, help yourself to these articles:

But really, I am for one both envious and proud of your situation. I want to be doing exactly what you are doing, (in that other life where I don’t have those two little monsters/angels who I love so much I would never exchange lives for). serenity will come and it CAN come in minneapolis… promise!

Minneapolis is the best! It pains me a little that you are moving there, because a little tiny part of me always wants to move back…..

Minneapolis is so great. If you need some true heart friends, I have a couple of GREAT recommendations. One of whom is VERY adventurous and outdoorsy and loves rock climbing and yoga and earthiness. (She’s a hippie, but a FABULOUS one.) Just let me know. :)

Hey, Sweetie! Hang in there! Adventures await! Sure wish you could have been with us this past weekend with Kim, Paulette, Susan, and Rachel–would love to have been able to beam you over! Next time, ja?
Praying for you and smiling! =)

I know all about emotional emergencies! So feel you. And I was just telling myself a quote I heard somewhere about how today’s safe boundaries were yesterday’s unknown frontiers. Ah! Truth. Here’s to stepping into the unknown (like we had a choice not to), taking it all moment by moment as it comes.

And guess what song is playing in my head. And yes to going out on a limb! Just be careful…you might wind up writing a dissertation. I’ve been a puddle under the covers many times along this journey. Offering prayers and sending love, always.